


soft lips, sharp teeth

by TR33G1RL



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Breeding Kink, Collars, Lingerie, M/M, Master/Pet, Petplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Puppy Play, Treats, power bottom Cavendish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-11-26 17:02:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20933669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TR33G1RL/pseuds/TR33G1RL
Summary: “Quit barking,” He orders, voice soft but words firm. At the order, Bartolomeo feels heat wash over his nervous system. Whether the heat is from lust or embarrassment is too hard to tell, so Bartolomeo absentmindedly assumes it's both. He calms down, closing his mouth as he focuses on Cavendish’s words. The blond man smiles at the immediate reaction, a smug gleam in his eyes. “Good boy.” He knows exactly what he’s doing as he lowers his voice to something sultry and sweet and perfect as it rings pleasantly in Bartolomeo’s ears. “I just wanted to play with my favorite dog. Does my good boy want that, too?”I'm late for Bartolomeo's birthday, but I'm here!





	1. Chapter 1

It’s a slow, cool, weekend day, and Bartolomeo is sitting at his desk, trying to focus on his homework. It’s not going well, as his boyfriend is laying on his own bed on the other side of the room. Normally, that would be fine, but today Cavendish is wearing that low-cut v-neck sweater, the white one that flatters the blond’s body in all the right ways. God, but Cavendish looks good today. Then again, Cavendish looks good all the time, though Bartolomeo won’t tell him that. At least, not outside of the bedroom.

Cavendish finished his homework earlier that afternoon and has spent the day since watching movies on his phone. Occasionally, he’ll come over to help Bartolomeo with his English homework. He’ll lean over the green-haired man’s shoulder and speak with his soft voice, his breath warm and sweet-smelling against Bartolomeo’s cheek. It’s nearly enough to make Bartolomeo want to pull Cavendish in for a kiss, but he doesn’t. He shows some self control because he doesn’t  _ need _ Cavendish. He-... He doesn’t  _ need _ to kiss him! He doesn’t!

...But damn does he  _ want _ to. Fuck. 

As of now, Cavendish is back to laying on his bed, his long hair spread out all around his head as Cavendish hums along to a song that’s playing from his friend. Bartolomeo doesn’t need any help with his homework, so he doesn’t bug Cavendish. His boyfriend’s humming is actually quite pleasant, though Bartolomeo won’t tell him that.

The humming suddenly stops and a soft sigh comes from the other side of the room, and Bartolomeo has to suppress a shiver at how that sigh sound like it belongs in… a different context. It makes a small spark of heat travel down his spine. But Bartolomeo doesn’t turn around. If Cavendish wants something, then he’ll get Bartolomeo’s attention. He always does.

Bartolomeo tries to focus on his attention back on his homework, but it isn’t working. His thoughts keep wandering back to his boyfriend, thinking about what Cavendish could be doing right now. It isn’t like the fencer to be quiet for so long, unless Cavendish is planning something.

And as soon as Bartolomeo has that thought, he hears the other man moving to get up. It makes the green-haired man go still as he tries to listen to where Cavendish is moving to. He listens closely as he taps his pencil against his desk, impatiently waiting to hear where his boyfriend is going. But after Cavendish gets off his bed, Bartolomeo can’t hear his footsteps due to the expansive rug that covers the hard tile of their dorm room. Bartolomeo tries to hold his breath so he can hear better. 

However, just as he thinks he’s able to hear something, there’s a sudden pressure on Bartolomeo’s shoulders that he didn't expect. He jumps and lets out a loud yelp as he reels back in his chair and drops his pencil to the ground.

A pleasant laugh sounds from next to Bartolomeo’s ear and he realizes that the weight on his shoulders is from Cavendish’s hands. Bartolomeo relaxes a bit at the realization that it’s his boyfriend who’s just scared him before whipping around in his chair to glare at the fencer. “Hey! What’s the idea, Cabbage?! You just scared the-!”

But before he can finish his sentence, Cavendish puts a hand over Bartolomeo’s mouth, a sly smile on his face as he shushes his boyfriend. “Quit barking,” He orders, voice soft but words firm. At the order, Bartolomeo feels heat wash over his nervous system. Whether the heat is from lust or embarrassment is too hard to tell, so Bartolomeo absentmindedly assumes it's both. He calms down, closing his mouth as he focuses on Cavendish’s words. The blond man smiles at the immediate reaction, a smug gleam in his eyes. “Good boy.” He knows exactly what he’s doing as he lowers his voice to something sultry and sweet and perfect as it rings pleasantly in Bartolomeo’s ears. “I just wanted to play with my favorite dog. Does my good boy want that, too?”

Bartolomeo nods silently as he intently watches Cavendish’s expression. His boyfriend really is gorgeous. Now if only Bartolomeo could tell him that without tripping over his own words and accidentally insulting the fencer, which leads to another bout of bickering between them. 

But now isn’t the time to think of that. After all, Cavendish tends to lead the conversation in the bedroom, and Bartolomeo is more than happy to follow. Most of the time.

“That’s good to hear.” Slowly, Cavendish lowers his hand from Bartolomeo’s mouth, smiling at the way Bartolomeo’s tongue darts out to lick across his lips, trying to catch any taste of the fencer’s skin that might remain on Bartolomeo’s own. Cavendish laughs airily at the action; it’s so cute for someone as ferocious as Bartolomeo. He reaches up with both hands to cup Bartolomeo’s cheeks in his hands, his thumbs softly rubbing over tan skin as Cavendish smiles at his boyfriend. “You are such a cute dog, aren’t you?” He hums, pleased, before he leans forward to place a soft peck to the tip of Bartolomeo’s nose. “Yes, you are.”

The praise makes Bartolomeo grin openly and easily, his sharp canines pressing into his lip with the action. “Thank you,” He says, his voice deep and husky as his eyes slip closed, his entire body relaxing as a wave of security and comfort washes over him. He leans into Cavendish’s hands as he watches his boyfriend look over him fondly.

Cavendish leans forward again, this time pressing a feather-light kiss to Bartolomeo’s forehead. “Of course, Bartolomeo. I always take care of my favorite pet,” His voice is soft and sweet and Bartolomeo loves it. Cavendish pulls back and looks the other man in the eyes. “Alright, so my good boy wants to play?” Without hesitation, Bartolomeo nods. Cavendish chuckles as his hands move back so his fingers can card through green hair and give a soft tug. “Okay then, doggy, I want you to go put on your collar and harness for me. You know I like how you look in them, all dressed up for me. Will you do that for me?” Cavendish asks with clever smile that tells Bartolomeo that he already knows Bartolomeo will agree.

And he does; Bartolomeo bobs his head in easy agreement, revelling in the bright grin that it earns him. Cavendish has a mouth that’s perfect for smiles. His lips are so soft and smooth and they taste sweet when he kisses Bartolomeo. 

“That’s my good pup,” Cavendish coos as his fingernails gently scratch against his boyfriend's scalp. "Now get ready while I go strip. I'll be right back, so you better behave. No touching yourself." And with that final order, Cavendish is standing before turning on his heel and making his way to their shared closet to get undressed.

  
  
  
  


Bartolomeo kneels on the ground at the edge of Cavendish's bed, his legs tucked under him as neatly as he is capable of. His hands are on his thighs, gripping his upper legs tight enough to force craters to form under the pressure of his fingers. His back is straight, the set of his shoulders tense with excitement and anticipation. A harness crosses over his chest, four straps that connect to a metal ring just under his pectoral muscles, the dark leather deliciously rough as it clings to his skin. Made of the same material, a collar hugs his neck, the metal ring connected to it having grown warm against the heat of his skin. 

His cheeks are far beyond pink, now in the territory of a vibrant red that spills over his cheeks like thick acrylic paint. His cock is already half-hard between his legs at the thought of him being able to please Cavendish. His skin is clear of hickies or bitemarks, a testament to how long it's been since he's had the opportunity to go all out with his boyfriend like this. Dark eyes are cloudy with need and desire, and his chest rises with slow, deep breaths as Bartolomeo tries to control himself. He doesn't want his Master to have to use the cuffs, after all. He likes being able to touch his beautiful, perfect master - when he's allowed to - and he knows he has to be a good pet if he wants to be allowed to do that.

Shifting his weight from leg to leg, Bartolomeo closes his eyes so he can put his focus into listening to what his Master is doing behind him. It takes a bit of effort, but Bartolomeo can hear his Master undressing behind him, his clothes being carefully peeled away from his body before they are gently set in the laundry basket. The sweater is what Bartolomeo hears come off first, then jeans, followed by Cavendish’s underwear. Then Bartolomeo hears another sound, the sound of fabric rustling. The taller of the two men wonders for a moment if his Master is putting on something else. Maybe he’s putting on that pretty lace thing that Bartolomeo loves so much, the dark blue one. Bartolomeo certainly hopes so.

Then the rustling of clothing stop, leaving only silence in the dorm room. Silence and the slow, shallow sound of Bartolomeo’s breathing. 

“Mn, now that feels much better. This is a lot more comfortable than those clothes.”

Bartolomeo’s breath hitches at the sound of those words. Maybe Master really is wearing that blue thing! The red blush on Bartolomeo’s grows darker as his lips quirk up into a smile. He bites his lip to restrain an embarrassingly happy noise from escaping his lips.

The sound of Cavendish’s footsteps grows closer until Bartolomeo can feel the heat of the fencer’s body moving to kneel right behind him. There’s a soft sigh that blows warm air across the back of the tan male’s neck and he sits up a bit straighter as he feels Cavendish’s hands come to gently rest on the muscled curve of his shoulders. It takes an actual effort for Bartolomeo to not turn around and pounce on Cavendish like a dog whose owner just got home from a month-long vacation. If Bartolomeo knew that Cavendish would let him, the taller man would turn around, jump on Cavendish, peel off whatever clothes he had on, and show him just how much Bartolomeo loves him by marking him as his own.

But Cavendish would never let his pet do something like that. He’s trained Bartolomeo well, and Bartolomeo doesn’t want to disappoint him. It took a lot of work to get to a point where he met Cavendish’s standards, and he doesn’t want to have to be retrained. 

So he doesn’t do anything. Doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, doesn’t look around, doesn’t so much as flinch as he waits for Cavendish to speak again. His hands remain firmly holding onto his legs, holding tight so Bartolomeo isn’t tempted to reach out for his boyfriend. He just keeps breathing, trying to keep his heart rate steady as Cavendish’s deft hands softly squeeze the tense muscles in his shoulders.

“Guess what, Bartolomeo?” Cavendish whispers, leaning in so his words are spoken against the other man’s nape. He grins at the way it sends raises goosebumps on Bartolomeo’s skin. “I know how much you like that blue lace teddy that I wear sometimes, so I thought I might try something new for you.” Cavendish leans forward, pressing his chest against Bartolomeo’s back. “Would you like to see it?” The question is sly, spoken with a mischievous grin on his lips.

It’s so hard to not move, to not turn around and ravish his lovely Master, but he manages. Barely, but he does. His hands remain firmly on his thighs, though his fingers are starting to leave bruises. Bartolomeo nods before managing to mumble, “Please let me see. Please?” His pleas are spoken in a deep, raspy voice that makes Cavendish coo in satisfaction.

Cavendish presses a kiss to the back of Bartolomeo’s neck between giggles. “Aw, listen to you! You’re just the cutest pet ever,” Cavendish croons happily as he moves his hands off of his boyfriend’s shoulders so he can rest them on top of Bartolomeo’s hands. The action draws both men’s attention to the fact that the taller of the two is still gripping his legs far too tight. Cavendish offers a small, slightly amused hum as he gives Bartolomeo’s hands a soft squeeze. “You’re so tense, pup. Relax for me, Bartolomeo. Can you do that for your master?” He requests softly as he rests his chin on Bartolomeo’s shoulder.

At Cavendish’s order, Bartolomeo takes in a deep inhale and lets it out through his lips. He takes in another breath and feels his muscles begin to relax. He lets out the breath and leans back against Cavendish’s chest, a small smile pushing itself onto his lips when he feels Cavendish’s hands moves away from his own so they can wrap around Bartolomeo’s waist.

“Good dog,” Cavendish praises, but he can’t help but notice that his boyfriend is still tense, though for a completely different reason. “Bartolomeo, I’m going to ask you this and trust you to answer me honestly. Do you think you can control yourself tonight, or will I need to put you on your leash?” The question isn’t harsh or mean, simply inquisitive. 

Bartolomeo opens his mouth to tell Cavendish that he’s fine, that there’s no need to use the leash, but he closes his mouth because he doesn’t want to lie to his Master. But he’s been trained to not need a leash! He certainly shouldn’t need one  _ now, _ so long after he’s been trained! But he knows that since he hasn’t been able to touch his Master in so long, he’s going to be insatiable, and he’s going to need something for Cavendish to control him with. So he hangs his head in shame and embarrassment as his blush renews itself in full. “Y-You need to put me on my leash, Master,” He confesses in a quiet whisper. “I… I’m not sure I can control myself.” He bites his lip as he feels humiliation wash over him. His eyes don’t well up, but he feels a hot sting at their corners.

To his surprise, Cavendish doesn’t scold him, only wraps his arms tighter around Bartolomeo’s waist. “It’s okay, Bartolomeo, you’re still a good dog,” He soothes. “It’s okay for you to need a leash sometimes. You’ve been good for so long, and I know you can only be strong for so long. It’s okay to need some help,” Cavendish murmurs before pressing a gentle kiss to Bartolomeo’s shoulder. “You’re not a bad boy just because you need help.”

Bartolomeo nearly collapses in relief at those words. His muscles lose most of their tension as he leans back against Cavendish’s chest, his body slumping in relief. “Thank you, Master,” He says quietly before he feels Cavendish’s hands move to hold onto Bartolomeo’s hips.

A gentle kiss is pressed to the area just under Bartolomeo’s jaw before Cavendish murmurs quietly, “Of course, Bartolomeo. I’m not  _ that _ cruel.” Then he laughs, a light, cheerful noise, before. When he speaks again, his voice is low and sultry and so damn sexy that Bartolomeo’s next inhale is shaky. “I’m not mean enough to not give my sweet puppy the attention he deserves just because he’s so horny and desperate that he could cum from just humping my leg.” Cavendish coos as one of his hands slides from Bartolomeo’s hip to palm his cock. “I mean, look at this! Your cock is getting hard from just hearing my voice and imagining what I look like! Poor, needy pup,” Cavendish says, though his voice is a sweet taunt rather than a mean one, as his smirk is pressed against Bartolomeo’s skin. Cavendish parts his lips slightly so he can scrape his teeth over his pet’s skin before nipping at his nape.

As soon as Bartolomeo feels the warmth of his Master’s palm rubbing against his cock, a low keen is pulled from his throat. “N-Ngh!” His head falls back against Cavendish’s shoulder and his mouth drops open so he can pant for breath. “Maaa-... Master,” He keens lowly as Cavendish’s palm rubs over his sensitive, throbbing tip. “M-More-! Puh-Please!”

“What a needy pup! You’re lucky I’m so kind, otherwise I’d make you get yourself off without any help. Maybe I really would make you hump my leg like the dog you are," Cavendish gives a gentle nip to the lobe of Bartolomeo’s ear as he smiles and wraps his hand around Bartolomeo’s base. His hand starts a pace that’s just barely too much for the taller man’s sensitive body. He smiles at the animalistic whimper it pulls from Bartolomeo’s throat. “But of course I’m nice, so I’ll give my pet what he wants. Are you going to be good and stay here while I go get your leash?” He asks before softly nipping at Bartolomeo’s jaw as his hand continues to stroke his pet’s hard cock. Mm, Bartolomeo’s cock feels so good as it twitches eagerly beneath his fingers. All hot and thick and heavy, perfect to drive Cavendish mindless with pleasure.

Breathing much more shallow than it had been only minutes before, Bartolomeo whines at the feeling of the hand on his length combined with the lewd words. “Haah… Mnh-” He keens, such a raw and animalistic sound that has Cavendish’s cock stirring behind his lacy underwear. Bartolomeo’s hands clamp down on his own thighs again in order to fit his urge to reach back and hold onto his beautiful, kind Master. “Y-Yes, Master,” He manages to say between panted breaths. “I-I’ll be a good dog, Master. I can be good.”

“That’s my good boy.” Cavendish smiles as he pulls away from Bartolomeo, unwrapping his arms from around the other man. “Now let’s sit up and I’ll go grab your leash.” He puts his hands on his pet’s shoulders and guides him into sitting up straight once more. Thankfully, Bartolomeo complies with the actions rather than resisting them, and he obediently sits up once more. The tan male keeps his gaze straight ahead, not looking back towards his Master as Cavendish walks back towards his dresser. Cavendish can’t help but be a bit thankful for that; while he doesn’t mind Bartolomeo being a bad dog and getting a bit rough every once in a while, it’s very clear that Bartolomeo needs to be controlled by a loving but firm master tonight.

Cavendish finds the leash quickly enough, but he takes his time walking back over to Bartolomeo. He makes sure to make each of his footfalls loud so his dear pet can hear the  _ click-tap _ of his high heels, even against the muffling of the rug. He stands right behind the other man and firmly instructs, “Don’t look yet. Keep your eyes on the ground.”

A simple nod meets Cavendish’s words and there’s no doubt in the fencer’s mind that Bartolomeo will obey him. He smiles proudly as he bends down and reaches around to the front of Bartolomeo’s collar. He finds the metal ring and hooks his finger in it before giving a soft tug, just to make sure he’s found it. A soft “Hn!” lets Cavendish know that he has. He smiles as he carefully clasps the end of the leash to the ring. He gives another soft tug on the leash, his smile growing at the whine Bartolomeo lets out. “There we go!” He announces before he takes a step back and looks at his boyfriend.

Bartolomeo is very obviously strong; that he is well-muscled and sturdy is undeniable. He’s clearly a weightlifter and a bit of a gym rat, but none of that ever stopped him from submitting to the strength of his boyfriend. He gets on his knees without any resistance from just a light press of Cavendish’s fingertips on his shoulders. He opens his mouth for the blond at a simple one-word command. He begs and pleads and whines when he’s just on the receiving end of a look.

“What a perfect pet I have,” Cavendish muses out loud as he reaches forward to ruffle Bartolomeo’s hair fondly. He chuckles softly as Bartolomeo sits up a bit more, trying to press further into Cavendish's hand. "I mean, look at you! So cute and desperate for your master," The fencer says as he bend down to press a kiss to Bartolomeo's head. 

Bartolomeo lets out a contented hum as his eyes flutter shut. Having Cavendish's praise feels so nice, and there's a certain type of familiar comfort to having his leash connected to his collar again. "Mnh,  _ Master," _ He sighs softly as he tilts his head back, his body relaxing now that he knows Master is completely in control. It always feels so  _ good _ to know that Master has complete power over the situation, over Bartolomeo. 

It's the perfect opportunity, and Cavendish can’t resist. He leans down and presses his lips to Bartolomeo's, sliding their lips together with ease. They move together with ease, mouths so familiar with each other’s that it takes little to know effort to remember the angles that they prefer. Then he draws his sweet pet's lower lip between his own is a gentle motion before sharply nipping it. The action draws a lovely keen from Bartolomeo’s throat as Cavendish pulls back to grin at his boyfriend. “Cute,” He whispers with a bright smile, one hand on the leash and the other on the back of Bartolomeo’s head. “Alright, doggy, you wanna see my new outfit?”

Bartolomeo’s eyes open wide and he stares up at the ceiling as he nods slowly. “Please, Master,” He says huskily. His breathing is coming quicker now, his chest rising and falling with each inhale and exhale. “I-I want to look at you, Master.” This waiting is driving him to mindlessness! He just wants to see Cavendish!

“You’re so sweet, pup,” Cavendish remarks with a chuckle. “Do you promise to be a good boy and stay still when you see me?” He asks as he gently scrapes his nails against Bartolomeo’s scalp. The content noise it pulls from deep in his pet’s chest makes Cavendish’s smile grow.

Slowly, Bartolomeo nods as he steels himself so he doesn’t act out and pounce on Cavendish. “Yes, Master,” He replies quietly. He can do this! He can be the perfect dog that Master trained him to be! Now that Cavendish is holding the leash, it’ll be much easier. “I’ll behave for you.”

“That’s what I like to hear from my sweet pet,” Cavendish coos before pressing a soft kiss to Bartolomeo’s hairline. He lets his lips linger there, feeling the warm skin pressed against his own. He can practically feel the heat of the taller man’s blush against his lips. It’s a delightful feeling that Cavendish knows he’ll never tire of. He pulls away with a soft exhale and his eyes meet into his boyfriend’s. Bartolomeo looks so good like this; sweet and soft and submissive for his Master. 

A smile is shared by both men before Cavendish softly nudges Bartolomeo’s head off his shoulder, chuckling when Bartolomeo lets his head fall forward to look ahead again. “Good boy,” Cavendish praises with a fond smile before he takes a small step back and wraps part of the leash around his hand, leaving a little slack. "Alright, doggy, stay still and close your eyes for me." 

Cavendish gives Bartolomeo a few seconds to calm himself down before he gracefully steps around Bartolomeo to so he can sit on the edge of his bed. He shifts a bit, getting comfortable in this position as he spreads his legs so Bartolomeo is kneeling between them. What a lovely sight he makes, so vulnerable for his Master. The sight makes Cavendish smile and he nearly tells Bartolomeo that he can open his eyes now, but then he looks down and realizes he should adjust his outfit.

Dexterous fingers gently tug at the hem of his seafoam green lace garterbelt before moving to the matching thigh-high socks. He pulls them a bit higher on his thighs, making sure that they're even before his hands move back up to his panties. The lacy fabric is tight over his hardening member, and the feel of it is sending small pulses of heat through Cavendish’s body. His accidentally fingertips brush over his already hard cock, the sensation drawing a surprised gasp from Cavendish's throat. “Hah!” 

The noise catches Bartolomeo’s attention and the green-haired man perks up, though he doesn’t open his eyes yet. Cavendish can’t help but smile at that. “Patience, Bartolomeo,” He softly orders as he reaches into his panties so he can pull his cock out from the skimpy fabric. Again, a small, involuntary noise makes its way up from the back of his throat. He lets his member stand proud, flushed and twitching just a foot away from Bartolomeo. Just the sight of his cock so close to his boyfriend’s face makes the molten lust in abdomen spread throughout his body. Cavendish smiles at his boyfriend, who is twitching impatiently, before the blond reaches out to ruffle Bartolomeo’s already messy hair. 

“Such a good dog,” He says as his hand moves back to his side. He takes makes sure his appearance is as perfect as ever one last time before letting out a soft exhale that still manages to catch Bartolomeo’s attention. Cavendish chuckles before he tells Bartolomeo, “Alright, you can open your eyes now, pup.”

And so the other man does. Bartolomeo looks up at Cavendish with wide eyes, taking in the other man’s beauty in its entirety. Cavendish is gorgeous like this, his skin almost completely bared for Bartolomeo to see, only hidden by the pale green lace and nylon and heels. Cavendish’s eyes are slowly growing lust-glazed, and his cock is standing proud between his legs and already dripping with precucm. Bartolomeo’s eyes linger on the blond’s cock, watching the way precum pearls up from his slit and shines in the soft light of their room. 

His Master looks so _ good. _ It’s hard not to jump on his Master and claim him right then, to mark Cavendish up and spill his cum inside of him and make Cavendish cover Bartolomeo’s hand in his seed. But not now. For now, his Master has something in mind, and Bartolomeo isn’t going to go against the other’s plans. He can only hope that Cavendish will at least suck him off because  _ damn _ does his Master’s cock look good.

Cavendish notices the other man’s attention, notices how Bartolomeo licks his lips subconsciously at the sight of the flushed cock. His adoring, awestruck gaze brings a smile to Cavendish’s lips and he reaches forward with his free hand to run through Bartolomeo’s hair, pushing it out of his face. Bartolomeo eagerly presses up into his boyfriend’s hand, but his eyes never leave Cavendish’s lovely body. It makes him laugh softly as his hand slips down to cup Bartolomeo’s cheek. “Oh, do you want a treat?” Cavendish asks with a sweet smile as he tilts Bartolomeo’s face up so brown eyes meet his own.

With lust-hazey eyes, Bartolomeo nods slowly, his tongue licking at his sharp canines. “Pl-Please, master.” His voice is deep and raspy and oh-so-needy, and Cavendish finds it adorable. “I-I’m hungry,” He murmurs, hands gripping his thighs tighter.

Cavendish laughs softly as he teasingly scratches under Bartolomeo’s chin. “Aw, poor thing! Come closer and I’ll give you a treat,” He coos as he gently pulls the other man’s face forward, closer to Cavendish’s dripping cock. “You’ve been such a good dog, Bartolomeo. Such a good boy.” Cavendish continues sweetly as the green-haired man eagerly shuffles forward on his knees. 

Bartolomeo obeys without question, but when he tries to lean forward and take Cavendish’s cock in his mouth, the blond’s hand on his jaw holds tight and forces Bartolomeo to stop mere inches from Cavendish’s length. With a whine, Bartolomeo looks up at his boyfriend with a pitiful expression.”Ngh! Ma-ster, please!” He whines his words as he feels disappointment and want swirling in his stomach.

The look on Bartolomeo’s face makes Cavendish laugh as his thumb fondly rubs against the other man’s cheek. “Aw, calm down, doggy. You’ll get your treat, I promise. But first, I need to know,” Cavendish holds tight to the leash, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he asks, “Are you going to be a good dog for your master? Are you going to  _ behave _ for your master?” 

Again, Bartolomeo nods eagerly. “O-Of course, Master. Always.” His own cock is achingly hard and twitching as it begs for attention, a beast longing to fill its primal urges. But Bartolomeo couldn’t care less about his own cock; right now, Bartolomeo is  _ hungry, _ and he wants to be fed.

The smirk on Cavendish’s face grows wider. “That’s my good boy. Now stick your tongue out for me.” Bartolomeo complies easily, opening his mouth and letting his tongue hand out like a panting dog. “Good job, pet,” Cavendish coos, “Now stay.” He pushes his hips forward a bit, allowing the head of his cock to rub against the wet muscle as Cavendish lets out a hum of pleasure. Bartolomeo’s tongue is incredibly hot and wet and slick as the tip of Cavendish’s cock rubs against it. “Mn, so nice and hot for master, aren't you?"

Bartolomeo makes a noise of agreement, one that's slightly muffled by the way his tongue hangs out of his mouth. It makes Cavendish chuckle lightly as smiles down at the other man. "You're so silly, little pup," He teases lightly as he carefully rubs the tip of his cock over Bartolomeo's tongue. His precum smears over the soft, pink muscle, which earns a pleased but choked noise from deep in Bartolomeo's throat. A soft, pretty moan is pulled from Cavendish’s mouth at the feeling of Bartolomeo’s tongue twitching against his cock. The green-haired man is trying so hard not to move so he can please his master, and it’s adorable. “Mmn, my puppy’s mouth is so perfect for his master,” Cavendish says lowly, his lips parted and his eyes half-lidded.

“Ah-” Bartolomeo grins at Cavendish as best as he can around his Master's member. The fencer's cock taste so good on his tongue - clean, but earthy and natural and delicious. Bartolomeo could never get tired of Cavendish’s taste in his mouth, even just in small ways like this. But still, it would be so much better if he could just-

“Don’t even think about it.”

Cavendish’s words quickly cut off any thoughts of being disobedient in Bartolomeo’s head, and the taller male flushes at being caught. But he can’t help how much he loves the thought of being able to suck Cavendish off; the thoughts are making him salivate, the spit welling up under his tongue. In this position, he can’t swallow his saliva down and it begins to leak out of the corners of his mouth. It’s slightly embarrassing, but with Cavendish smearing precum all over the weightlifter’s tongue like this, Bartolomeo can’t help but drool.

As saliva drips down Bartolomeo’s chin and down his neck, Cavendish’s lips part with breathless pants. Bartolomeo’s tongue is soft-rough against the head of his cock, and it’s tantalizingly good. Even more than that, the sight of his pet slowly losing his mind with lust as he obeys Cavendish has the fencer’s need for more growing. He wants to fuck Bartolomeo’s mouth, to watch as Bartolomeo has to be careful of his teeth as Cavendish thrusts in and out of that wet heat that has driven him to climax more times than he could count. 

But that’s not what Cavendish has planned for tonight. 

All week, Cavendish’s body has felt empty in a way that even his fingers can’t fix. He needs something thicker and longer and heavier and  _ more. _ It’s been a busy week, though, and he hasn’t had any time to take care of his more primal needs. He’s had to ignore that aching and yearning in his lower body that calls for his boyfriend’s cock. But not anymore. Now Cavendish finally has his pet all for himself, and he’s going to get what he wants.

“Puppy,” Cavendish exhales breathlessly as he rubs his member over the wet tip of Bartolomeo’s tongue. Blue eyes are half-lidded as pink covers his cheeks. The sight catches Bartolomeo’s sight and their gazes lock as Cavendish speaks again. “Puppy, I need you so bad. I’ve felt so empty without you inside me.” The hand on the base of Cavendish’s cock gives a slow stroke, which draws a soft whimper from the blond’s throat. The other hand holds tight to the leash, reminding Bartolomeo to behave even though Cavendish clearly wants more than what he’s allowing Bartolomeo to give him. “I  _ need _ you inside me, puppy. I need you to fuck your Master,” He murmurs with that sweet voice as he moves back until his cock is away from Bartolomeo’s eager mouth. He spreads his legs wider, desperately needing to feel something more against his lower body.

Bartolomeo hangs onto every word with wide eyes before quickly nodding. “Master,” He starts with a low, raspy voice. “Please let me be a good boy for you. Let me make you feel good.” He wants to move forward, to take his Master’s cock back into his mouth, but he knows better. If he waits, he’ll be able to fill Cavendish up in the way he needs, the way that will make him feel so good that he loses his mind and pants breathlessly and cries out so loudly that it rings in Bartolomeo’s ears for days afterwards. “Please, I want to help you feel good.”

Cavendish smiles softly as he gives one last stroke of his cock before letting his hand move away from his erection. “I know, pup. I know you do.” His smile grows into a grin as he adds, “And Master is going to let you.” He moves further back onto the bed, using his grip on the leash to tell Bartolomeo to follow him. And his sweet pet does, immediately understanding what Cavendish wants and crawling onto the bed after his pretty Master. Cavendish smiles at Bartolomeo, watching as his pet sits himself between Cavendish’s spread legs, his eyes darting over his Master’s body as if it was his first time seeing it. “You’re so cute, Bartolomeo,” He coos fondly, “So sweet and eager and perfect for me.”

Bartolomeo grins proudly at the praise, shifting slightly as he feels his achingly hard cock throb between his legs. His Master’s kind words always have that effect on him, and he doesn’t mind in the least. The sweet crooning sends heat through his veins and threatens to make him whine and pant and whimper like an animal. He loves those pretty words; even more so when Cavendish invites him into his bed while he says them. Though Bartolomeo doesn’t respond verbally, he knows that Cavendish can see how happy the praise makes him.

One of Cavendish’s hands still holds tight to the leash, but his other comes up to cup Bartolomeo’s cheek. “Such a good puppy for your Master. You’re always so perfect for me,” Cavendish continues in that sexy-sweet croon as his hand drifts down to Bartolomeo’s neck. “You always behave, unless I tell you not to, and you always know just how to help me.” His hand trails down his pup’s chest, scratching the faintest of lines into his skin. His eyes, however, never leave Bartolomeo’s. “You’re such a good dog for me, Bartolomeo, and I’m so proud of you,” He says with a soft smile before leaning forward to catch Bartolomeo’s lips in a sweet but chaste kiss that the taller man is more than happy to return. Their lips slid together with ease and familiarity that comes from practice and time. Bartolomeo’s lips and chin are still slick with his own saliva, but neither truly minds.

After a moment, Cavendish pulls away so he can look at Bartolomeo in the eye. The look is return evenly, though lust clouds Bartolomeo’s eyes as much as it does Cavendish’s. It brings a laugh from the blond as his hand slides back up to Bartolomeo’s cheek, cupping it in his palm. “Okay, pup, go grab the lube for me and I’ll let you prepare me this time,” He orders in his honey-sweet voice as he gives the leash some slack. He moves further back on the bed to lay down against the pillows as he watches Bartolomeo obey his commands.

Bartolomeo doesn’t even think about disobeying as he reaches over to the bedside table to grab the bottle of lube. He’s still beaming widely as he moves back between Cavendish’s legs, scooting closer to his Master. He looks up to find Cavendish is smiling softly at him, one hand - the one holding the leash - resting over his stomach while the other hand is under his thigh, pulling his panties to the side just enough to expose his entrance. Beautiful. He’s so damn beautiful. All of Bartolomeo’s breath leaves him in a raspy exhale of, “Master…” as he stares at his loving, perfect boyfriend.

Cavendish’s grin only twitches a bit wider as he chuckles. “Yes, puppy? Is there a reason you’re hesitating right now?” He asks slyly as one of his fingers moves to rub around his hole. “I thought you would want to get started as soon as possible?” He knows exactly what he’s doing, seducing his poor pet like this. 

Red and hard and aching, Bartolomeo’s cock gives a painful twitch that makes him keen lowly. “Ma-ster… I-I…” He says, though he has no thought in his words. His mind is blank besides all thoughts of ‘need master’ and ‘please master.’ At Cavendish’s obvious taunts, Bartolomeo blinks up at the fencer as he opens the cap to the bottle. “Master, c-can I start? Can I f-feel you now?” He asks the questions so sweetly, but his voice is nearly a low, lusty pant. 

A low huff of laughter meets Bartolomeo’s requests and Cavendish lightly pulls on the leash. A pleased gasp is pulled from his lips as the action draws a true growl from deep in Bartolomeo’s chest. Cavendish nods slowly as he grins and says, “Go ahead, doggy. Start with two fingers. I want you in me and I don’t want to wait,” He instructs as he spreads his legs wider, inviting Bartolomeo to start. 

The taller man nods as he pours a good amount of lube onto his fingers. Cavendish notes that he’s being very liberal with it and smirks; Bartolomeo always loves it wet and slick and messy. Soon, his pet’s fingers are covered with lube and he’s moving to kneel closer to his Master. He glances up at Cavendish again, who smiles and nods in return. And that’s all Bartolomeo needs before he’s carefully rubbing two fingers against the other man’s rim, slicking up the tight muscles there before pressing them in.

Cavendish is relaxed enough that his sweet pet can press the tips of his digits inside with little resistance. Bartolomeo moves slow, always so careful, though Cavendish can handle much rougher. But the fencer doesn’t actually mind; he find’s Bartolomeo’s sweet, careful preparations to be sweet, though almost painfully slow on his doggy’s end. “Mn,” Cavendish moans softly as his eyes flutter shut. “There it is. That’s almost what I need.” He opens one eye to glance at Bartolomeo, whose eyebrows are furrowed in concentration as his cock drips precum onto his thighs and his fingers slowly work deeper into Cavendish’s tight body. 

“‘Almost,’ Master?” Bartolomeo asks, though his eyes never leave the sight of Cavendish’s hole greedily gripping his fingers. He continues to slowly work them inside, letting the pads of his fingers press against the walls of Cavendish’s insides. “What do you mean?”

Another pretty noise floats up from Cavendish’s lips before he breathlessly replies, “I need more than that to fill me up. I need something bigger.” His words are suggestive, but the tone goes right over Bartolomeo’s head as he works his fingers in to the second knuckle. The green-haired man blinks in confusion and glances up at his Master, who rolls his eyes with a smile. “Do you really not know, puppy?” He asks teasingly as he pushes himself down onto Bartolomeo’s fingers. The very faint sting it gives only makes him moan again.

Bartolomeo shrugs and blushes in embarrassment as he replies with, “I-I don’t know, Master.” His eyes go wide as Cavendish pushes onto his fingers, taking them to the base. He waits for a moment before he curls them slightly, which brings a lovely moan from Cavendish. “Is-Is that what you mean, Master?” He asks almost shyly as he repeats the action, pleased when he gets the same response.

“Hm?” Cavendish asks as he tries to regain himself. The question processes after a few seconds and he has to suppress a laugh as he shakes his head. “No, that’s not it- Hn!” The blond’s words are cut off by Bartolomeo beginning to slowly move his fingers in and out of his Master’s heat. “I’m talking about your cock, puppy,” He finishes breathlessly as he grins up at his pet.

For a moment, all of Bartolomeo’s actions stop as he tries to register what Cavendish just said. Then he begins moving again, his movement just a bit faster and more desperate as he thrusts his fingers in and out of Cavendish. Soft, wet noises come from the actions as he asks, “M-My cock, Master? Y-You… You  _ need _ my cock?” He asks in that rough, needy tone that Cavendish loves.

“Ah-! Mhm!” Cavendish replies with a smirk as he feels his lubed inside squeezing around his pet’s fingers. Damn, it already feels so good! “Of course! always need my sweet pup’s dick to fill me up and stretch me open until I can’t remember my own name.” Cavendish knows he’s tempting his fate by dirty talking like this, but dammit, it’s too fun! His eyes meet Bartolomeo’s as he continues to talk. “My doggy is the only one who can fuck me so well with his big, thick cock.”

Bartolomeo’s fingers only move faster, opening his Master up as fast as he can. If Master needs his cock to fill him up, then that’s exactly what Bartolomeo wants to give him. His own breathing is shallow as his cock weeps onto his thighs and the sheets beneath him. “I’ll give it to you, Master,” He promises lowly as he prepares his Master. “I’ll fuck you just like you need. I’ll do anything you want.”

“Ah! Th-That’s my good boy!” Cavendish whimpers in reply. His cock is heavily dripping precum, the sticky fluid soaking his lace panties. Good. He wants to be messy and thoroughly well-fucked by his sweetheart. “P-Put another one in, puppy! I’m ready!”

Of course Bartolomeo obeys his Master and pushes a third finger in, thrusting them in and out of Cavendish’s hot, lube-slick body. The noises that result from the actions are loud, wet slaps of skin-on-skin that make both men moan. “Master, feel so good,” Bartolomeo pants as he feels his master squeeze around him. “Wanna fuck you, wanna put my dick in you, wanna make you feel so good you can’t think.”

“I-I want that, too,” Cavendish replies between whimpers and gasps. “I want my puppy’s heavy dick inside me, pounding away at my prostate until I lose my mind.” The fingers inside of him are so big and rough and thick, but he still needs  _ more.  _ “I want my doggy to make me cum until I don’t have anything left in me. Then I want my puppy to cum inside me and fill me up with all of his seed.” He looks Bartolomeo in the eye and smiles as he says, “Then I want him to put a plug in me and I’ll keep all that cum in me until we fuck again and he just puts more cum in me.”

Bartolomeo’s fingers are at a ruthless pace by the time Cavendish finishes speaking, and it’s a pace that Cavendish loves. “Master, I need to fuck you,” Bartolomeo says bluntly as his finger roughly curl into Cavendish’s prostate, making the fencer cry out loudly as his back arches. “I need to make you feel good. I need to do all the things you just said.”

“Then do it,” Cavendish replies quickly through panted breaths. He looks his boyfriend in the eye as he says, “Puppy, make your Master feel good. Make your Master forget everything but how much he loves and needs his good dog.”

The next few seconds are a blur as Bartolomeo quickly pulls his fingers out of his Master’s body, lubes up his own cock, and lines himself up with Cavendish’s entrance. There’s a few seconds of pause and quiet as he looks up at Cavendish. “Master, may I please fuck you?” He asks with wide, eager eyes.

“Hm…” Cavendish smirks in response before giving a sharp tug on Bartolomeo’s leash, dragging the other man closer. They share a quick, sweet kiss beforeCavendish releases his tight grip on the leash. “Now you can, “ He announces proudly. But that smug expression is wiped off his face as his sweet, soft pet begins to press the fat, swollen, dripping head of his girthy cock against Cavendish’s entrance. The sensation draws a pretty moan from his lips as he relaxes his body. “P-Puppy! So  _ big!” _ He whimpers as he feels the thick part of the tip push against his rim. Within just a moment, Bartolomeo’s girth manages to slide past the ring of muscle, a sensation that draws a soft cry from Cavendish’s lips.

Bartolomeo smiles back breathlessly as he continues to slowly push himself in. He can’t find any words to say as he sinks in slowly, allowing his Master time to adjust to his thick member. His hands on Cavendish’s hips grip  _ tight, _ surely leaving marks. It’s slow moving as he pushes in to his base, and he has to control himself to make sure he doesn’t rush things, but his Master’s beautiful noises make all of it worth it. Both of them are breathing hard by the time that Bartolomeo if finally all the way in, and they both need a second to adjust. After a few moments of silence besides breathing, Bartolomeo finally looks up at his master as Cavendish whimpers a soft, “Move, puppy. Be rough with your Master.” 

And only bad pets disobey orders, so Bartolomeo does as his Master says. His cock pounds against his master’s walls in a rough rhythm that has Cavendish hiccup as he pants and begs for more from his precious pup. “Y-es, puppy, ke-eep going!” He cries out between moans and whines as he reaches one hand to stroke his cock in time with Bartolomeo’s rhythm. His head falls back and his back arches as his body is filled so perfectly. “Good, s-so good, puppy, your c-ock is the best!”

The praise only spurs Bartolomeo on as his pace grows harsher. Wet noises sound from the connection of their bodies as the pelvises roughly collide. “Yes, yes, Master,” He growls as he roughly moves their bodies together. He hears an especially loud cry from his Master and feels the body around his cock clench, and he knows he’s found his Master’s sweet spot. Mercilessly, Cavendish continues to pound away at that spot as he feels the fencer’s body begin to tremble.

“Close, close-!” Cavendish keens as his strokes on his cock begin to speed up. He’s so caught up in chasing his orgasm that he reaches it all too soon, his cum spilling all over his stomach and abdomen and - most importantly - his lingerie. “AH! P-PUPPY! YES!” He cries as Bartolomeo continues to milk him through his orgasm.

Bartolomeo slows to a stop when he sees that his Master’s orgasm is over. “Do you want me to stop, Master?” He asks softly, though his cock throbs angrily at the idea.

Cavendish roughly tugs on Bartolomeo’s leash as he demands, “No! Keep going! I said I need your cum inside me, so you better give me it!” So Bartolomeo starts moving again, watching his master carefully because Cavendish is still shaking post-orgasm. “Faster,” Cavendish orders. “I-I need your seed, pup.” And that works, because Bartolomeo starts pounding away at his Master’s insides again, working himself up to his own orgasm.

It’s less than a minute after that that Bartolomeo cums, spilling all of his seed inside of Cavendish as he pants, “Master, yours, so good, Master…” He collapses on top of Cavendish, cock still inside of him as they both pant for air. After a minute, he looks up at Cavendish and softly asks, “Did I do good, Master? Did I make you feel good?”

Cavendish laughs as he fondly tousles Bartolomeo’s hair. “Of course you did, puppy. You did perfect,” He leans forward and places a soft kiss on Bartolomeo’s temple before pulling back to look at his boyfriend with a smirk. “Now why don’t you hand me a buttplug and we go shower before I help you finish your homework?”

Bartolomeo grins as he nods as he replies. “Sounds perfect! But only if you’ll play with your pet some more while I do my homework,” He says with a wicked smirk.

Cavendish offers a cunning grin in return. “But of course! I know that my sweet puppy is still hungry.” He winks, laughing at how Bartolomeo’s cheeks go red. “But first, shower.”

“Yeah, shower.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dry sex and a bit of a breeding kink. also love.

Bartolomeo doesn’t like wearing underwear when he’s just lounging around his and Cavendish’s dorm room. No need to, after all. They’re uncomfortable and Bartolomeo finds it much more enjoyable to just wear pants instead. Not to mention, Cavendish is alright with him doing it, so why bother? 

And that’s why Bartolomeo doesn’t even think twice when, after his shower, he just pulls on his ratty joggers and skips putting on any other clothes. He uses his towel to dry his hair off before tossing the towel into his laundry basket so he could do it with the rest of his dirty clothes later that night. The green-haired man looks into the mirror and scowls at his drying hair; he much prefers it when it’s styled and gelled, but Cavendish always tells Bartolomeo to let it be after he showers to preserve his hair’s health. Some of the hair falls in his eyes and Bartolomeo tries to blow it out of the way, but to no avail. Bartolomeo would listen to his boyfriend, but dammit, he wouldn’t be happy about it!

Hair only partially dry and sticking to his forehead and cheeks, Bartolomeo makes his way out of the bathroom and over to the worn-down couch between his and Cavendish's beds. Bartolomeo drops himself onto the faded couch cushions, getting comfortable with a pleased yawn as he drapes one arm along the back of the couch while the other reaches for the remote at his side. There's a cheap TV across the small room, and with a click of the power button, the screen flickers on so Bartolomeo can pull up Netflix and turn on one of his favorite shows, though he's not sure which one he wants yet…

Just as he's about to click on a new show, a sci-fi one recommended to him by a friend, he hears a key turning in the door's lock before the door is pushed open. The sound is quickly followed by Cavendish's voice as he speaks to someone on the phone. "Of course I heard about it!" Cavendish exclaims with a smirk on his face as he sets his messenger bag on his desk. He pauses in his movements before shrugging his cardigan off. "Wait, you mean you _ haven't?! _Oh my God, you need to call Reiju and ask her about it. She tells the story much better than I do." There’s a pause as Cavendish listens to the person on the other end of the phone while taking off his shoes. “Oh, trust me,” He says after a moment, “You’re going to want to hear it from her because-”

Bartolomeo tunes out of the conversation and turns the show on, though he keeps it at a low volume so it doesn’t disturb Cavendish’s conversation. Usually he’d blare it, just to annoy his boyfriend, but he’s feeling nice today. By which he means he’s just feeling tired because of the test he had to take at six in the morning. Maybe, if he was lucky, Cavendish would be able to tell Bartolomeo was tired and would offer to fall asleep on the couch with him.

Since he’s tuned out of whatever conversation Cavendish is having, Bartolomeo doesn’t notice when his boyfriend finally finishes his conversation. He only notices that Cavendish has hung up the phone after a final goodbye - “Alright, Bartolomeo and I will see you and Nami for lunch on Saturday. See you soon!” - when the fencer clicks the power button on his phone and walks over to sit on the couch next to his boyfriend. He lets out a soft sigh as he elegantly places himself next to his boyfriend, crossing his legs in his usual dignified way. 

Bartolomeo lets his arm drop from the back of the couch to rest on Cavendish’s shoulders. “Who was that?” He asks as he feels Cavendish scoot close enough for their thighs to press together, a familiar warmth passing between their bodies. A head of soft, blonde hair rests on Bartolomeo’s shoulder and, though his boyfriend’s eyes don’t leave the screen, Bartolomeo’s lips twitch up into a smile. He gives the blond’s shoulders a soft squeeze, drawing an airy laugh from Cavendish. “Anyone I should care about

“It was Vivi,” Cavendish tells him as he turns his phone on and begins to scroll through his browser. “She and Nami want to go to lunch with us on Saturday at the cafe next to her dorm. You know, the one with the tiramisu and the sandwiches you like?” He looks up at Bartolomeo to find him staring blankly back at Cavendish in return. With a small chuckle, he adds, “The roast beef sandwich?”

“Oh, yeah!” Bartolomeo nods as he recalls the brick building just catty-corner from Vivi and Nami’s dorm. “I like that place. And they have those pink cookie-things that you like.” He smiles as he looks back to the TV. The show isn’t exactly interesting, but he tries to pay attention. Well, kinda. He keeps looking back to Cavendish, who

Cavendish laughs softly as he nods and turns off his phone before setting it aside. “The rosewater and raspberry macarons?” He suggests with a sly grin and a gleam in his bright eyes, knowing damn well that Bartolomeo likes those ‘pink cookie-things’ just as much as he does. And he’s nearly 100% percent sure he knows _ exactly _ why Bartolomeo likes them. “Maybe I could buy us a box of them to bring home and share when we go out. Those are always a nice treat, don’t you think?”

A faint blush makes itself known on Bartolomeo’s cheeks as he chokes on his inhale and his cock twitched in his pants. He tries to hide it by gruffly clearing his throat, but it doesn’t work in the least. “Y-Yeah, those are pretty good, I guess,” He says as he awkwardly shifts in his seat. He knows that Cavendish knows about his love for the pastries, but Bartolomeo can’t help it! After all, Cavendish is the one who trained Bartolomeo to love the taste of rosewater. The fencer used treats to train his puppy, and he had rose-flavored hard candies that were only given when Bartolomeo was on his absolute best behaviour. Like if he managed to let Master be his cockwamer while Cavendish laid his head on his pet’s shoulder and took an hour-long nap, and Bartolomeo didn’t move the entire time. Afterwards, Cavendish would wake up and smile groggily at his pup before giving Bartolomeo a rose-flavored candy before letting him wake Cavendish up with a rough fuck. Things like THAT are why Bartolomeo loves the taste of rose and rosewater so much! “We can get some, i-if you want them.”

Cavendish smirks as he sees Bartolomeo blush and shift nervously. “I think I do want some,” He says as he watches Bartolomeo’s blush grows brighter at his words. “I’ve always loved the taste of rose. It’s one of my favorite flavors for sweets. What do you think about it?” He asks cleverly as his eyes track the way Bartolomeo’s body twitches. He can see his puppy’s thick length twitching in his pants. Oh, Bartolomeo is going without underwear again. How adorable~! Cavendish always loves it when his doggy doesn’t wear anything under his pants - much easier to take care of Bartolomeo’s needs that way. Maybe, if Cavendish plays with his pup a little, he’ll be able to get Bartolomeo riled up enough that he’ll get hard and have a big, thick, cute bulge in his pants! Cavendish loves it when that happens because it means he gets to tease his puppy.

Having not glanced away from the screen, Bartolomeo couldn’t see the scheming look on his boyfriend’s face. Instead, he continues to pretend to watch the show as he tries to will away his blush and replies. “I-I guess it’s alright.” He’s trying to ignore the way his cock twitches, slowly stirring at the mere memory of the flavor of the rose candy. He tries, but it’s no easy task since he can practically taste the heavenly combination of rose candy and his Master’s tongue. 

“Only ‘pretty good,’ Bartolomeo?” Cavendish asks with a thoughtful hum. He can see Bartolomeo tense at the words from the corner of his eye, and he has to keep the smugness out of his voice as he taps a finger against his chin and says, "I'll keep that in mind the next time I go to the store then."

Bartolomeo glances at Cavendish, who puts on a neutral expression so the green-haired man can't see his scheming eyes. "Wh… What do you mean?" Bartolomeo asks nervously. He's not sure what Cavendish is trying to say, but he thinks he has an idea of what it is, and he really hopes he isn't right. He likes those rose candies a lot, though he tries not to say so outside of when he’s in the metaphorical bedroom.

With a light, nonchalant shrug, Cavendish replies with a casual tone. “I mean, if it’s just alright, then I should find something to replace those rose candies I give you sometimes. They’re supposed to be a reward for when you are on your absolute _ best _ behavior, so if they’re only alright, I should find a better treat to give my puppy,” He explains as he watches Bartolomeo’s frown grow deeper as his brows begin to furrow. Cavendish nearly smirks, but he manages to restrain himself as he asks, “But what do you think would be a better treat?”

The question triggers something in Bartolomeo as his hand drops the remote so it can nervously squeeze at his leg. “M-Master…” He says in his deep voice, the beginnings of submissive softness in his words. He doesn’t want a new treat, he loves the rose ones! They’re so good and sweet and Cavendish eats them sometimes and Bartolomeo likes tasting them when he kisses Master! Bartolomeo doesn’t want a new candy, _ never _ wants a different treat to replace the rose-flavored candies!

Pretending not to notice Bartolomeo’s growing worry and desperation, Cavendish asks, “What do you think about chocolate? We could do something small, like M&Ms or chocolate chips.” Cavendish thinks for a moment before he shakes his head and clicks his tongue against his teeth disapprovingly. “Oh, but I don’t like M&Ms or chocolate chips. Maybe… hm… caramels? Those are pretty good.” Cavendish suggests as he watches Bartolomeo’s hand twitch, as well as the corner of his mouth. The fencer raises an eyebrow as he looks at Bartolomeo directly and asks, “Do you like caramels, Bartolomeo?” Innocently worded, but the question is so devious in nature.

A soft whine pulls itself from deep in Bartolomeo’s chest. His hand clenches tight over his thigh as his other arm moves away from Cavendish’s shoulders so his other hand can mimic the first, nervously kneading the muscles in his thighs. He glances at Cavendish out of the corner of his eyes, his worry growing and pooling in his gut. When he finds his Master watching him with seemingly innocent curiosity, he looks away and swallows around the lump in his throat so he can respond. “N-No… Mast-”

“Hm. I guess they might be too sticky anyway.” Cavendish ponders out loud, pretending that he hasn’t heard Bartolomeo’s soft pleas. “So I guess that would count most caramel and honey things out,” he continues as he taps a thoughtful finger against his cheek. Oh, but this teasing game is so much fun! Why hasn’t he tried this before. “Let me think… What about peppermints?” He asks as he glances over to his boyfriend again, still managing to keep a straight face even as Bartolomeo’s desperation becomes even more apparent. 

This time, the question causes a distressed whine to worm its way past Bartolomeo’s lips. His short nails dig into his thick muscles through the fabric of his pants as he slowly shakes his head in response to his Master’s question. “No,” He rasps, voice so soft and deep as he becomes even more worried and distraught. Master’s questions are concerning him. Is Master actually thinking about…? Does he really think that…? “Master, I-I don’t want-”

“-don’t want peppermints, thank goodness,” Cavendish finishes for him, purposefully cutting him off again. Ah, and there’s that cute lip-bite that Bartolomeo does when he gets distressed but doesn’t know what to say! So _ cute! _“I can’t say I like peppermints for more than freshening my breath, so I’m glad we’re on the same page on that one,” The fencer explains as he reaches up to curl his hair around his index finger, a habit he usually did without thinking but now does very consciously simply because it will convince Bartolomeo of the act just that much more. “Hm… What are your thoughts on fruit snacks?”

Bartolomeo sits as still as possible, watching Master’s actions and reactions as carefully as possible. It’s a difficult task, given how Bartolomeo’s heart is beating in his ears and how he can only feel the height of the body next to him and the weight of his tongue in his own mouth. “I…” He has to swallow around the dryness of his throat before he can finish his sentence. “I don’t… like… fruit snacks…” He says slowly, still feeling like a deer in headlights at the feeling of Cavendish’s bright blue eyes. His hands are beginning to shake from the amount of force he’s pushing into them to hold onto his own body. When he first started this action, he was using the act to restrain himself. Now he’s just using it to keep himself from falling apart. “Ma-”

Cavendish nods with a sound similar to that of remembrance. “Right, right. You told me that. And that’s good, because I can’t stand the taste of them either. They’re just too artificial.” Cavendish shakes his head, making a disgusted face that still looks so beautiful to his sweet pet. “Well, that doesn’t leave us many options. I know that we don’t like using chocolate because it melts too easily… Hm… What do you think about licorice?” Cavendish asks, all false simple curiosity and wide eyes as he lays one of his hands on top of Bartolomeo’s own.

The last word of the question is the only thing that catches the tan male’s attention. He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t even notice when Master’s hand comes to rest atop his own. Licorice… Licorice?! No! Licorice is bad! So bad! It’s disgusting! It tastes awful! It’s the wrong kind of sweet, the _ worst _kind! It tastes nothing like the rose candies, and the rose candies taste just like Master! The licorice tastes bad and wrong and nothing like master!

“No!”

Bartolomeo suddenly finds his voice as he turns to face his boyfriend. His eyes are wide and his fingers nearly tear into the thin fabric of his joggers as he tries not to cry. The rose candy is the best treat he’s ever had, and it truly does taste just like Cavendish’s kisses. Not only that, but the pride he sees on Cavendish’s face whenever Bartolomeo has earned one of the candies is a sight that Bartolomeo wouldn’t trade for anything in the world. The rose candies matter too much to Bartolomeo for him to lose them to something as simple and as silly and as completely _ useless _ as his pride! He blinks away the hot sting in the corners of his eyes as he pleads, “Ma-Master, please! P-Please don’t stop giving me the rose candies a-as a treat! I… I really like them a lot! Please, Master!” 

The sudden outburst from the green-haired man makes Cavendish blink in surprise. He didn’t know that Bartolomeo was _ that _ distraught over this little game. Aw, poor Bartolomeo! Poor little pup must be so scared that Cavendish is being serious! Cavendish feels a pang of guilt in his chest as he sees the pitiful expression on his boyfriend’s face, and he immediately reaches out and cups Bartolomeo’s cheeks in his hands.

“Oh, puppy,” He says softly, his own expression softening into one of concern and worry. “Aw, sweet boy, I was just joking. I’m not going to stop giving you your favorite treats, pup. I would never do that to you.” Cavendish’s thumbs gently rub over Bartolomeo’s cheekbones as he works on calming down his sweet, precious doggy. He watches Bartolomeo’s reaction, hoping to see signs of Bartolomeo relaxing. “I’m sorry, pup. I was just pulling your leg and poking a bit of fun at you. I shouldn’t have said I’d change your favorite treats. I know how much you like them and I’ll never, ever get rid of them.”

Bartolomeo goes stiff when he feels Cavendish’s hands on his cheeks. He knows that his outburst may have been over something a bit silly, but he really likes the rose candy! He doesn’t want them to go away just because he was being stupid! As he listens to Cavendish’s words, he gives a few soft sniffles, but the water in his eyes dries up and his hands slowly relax their harsh grip. His eyes move up to meet Cavendish’s as the blond whispers sweet, loving words and apologies that help calm the frantic pace of Bartolomeo’s heartbeat. “S-So you’re not g-going to take away the rose candy?” He asks raspily as he looks into Cavendish’s eyes to see if his Master is telling the truth

The gaze that locks on his own is nervous but hopeful, and another wave of guilt washes over Cavendish. Despite the painful emotion, Cavendish pulls his lips into a brighter but still soft and loving smile. “Puppy, Master would never do that to you. I love you too much to deprive you of something you love so much.” Cavendish continues to whisper softly as he reaches up to gently stroke through still partially damp green hair. “Master loves you so, so much. You know that, don’t you, pup?”

Finally, a weak, shaky smile pulls onto Bartolomeo’s lips as he slowly nods in response to Cavendish’s question. His sniffling has stopped and he’s beginning to lean into his boyfriend’s hands, his shoulders just starting to slump with relaxation. All of his body language is much improved compared to how nervous it had been only a minute prior.

A soft, relieved sigh passes through Cavendish’s lips as the guilt in his mind and heart begins to ebb away. “Good boy,” He praises in a soft croon as he smiles at Bartolomeo. “Good dog.” He continues to gently run his fingers through Bartolomeo’s hair, fingertips scratching his scalp in the process. Bartolomeo’s eyelids begin to droop from the relaxing touches and voice, but Cavendish needs him awake. “Puppy?” He calls softly. Bartolomeo blinks himself into alertness, staring at Cavendish as he awaits his Master’s words. Cavendish chuckles fondly before quietly requesting, “Puppy, can you say that for me?”

Bartolomeo blinks a few times before he realizes what his Master is asking of him. He nods once before he quietly whispers what is asked of him. His lips hardly move to form the words, his voice quiet as he whispers, “M-Master loves me…” He looks up at Cavendish, looking for his Master’s approval to tell him that he’s done the right thing.

Cavendish smiles at him in return, ruffling Bartolomeo’s hair fondly. “That’s my good puppy.” He coos softly as he moves his hands back to cup Bartolomeo’s cheeks once again. His smile only grows when Bartolomeo rubs his face against his Master’s palms. “Can you say it again for me?” He asks as his thumbs gently rub over the apples of Bartolomeo’s cheeks.

Bartolomeo straightens himself up a bit, his hesitant smile growing a bit more confident. “Master loves me,” He repeats, a warmth returning to his voice as he shifts a bit on the couch, pulling his legs under him so he can sit on the back of his shins in a similar way to how Cavendish is sitting. The words make him flush a vivid pink that looks so good on him that Cavendish can’t help but lean forward to press a soft, chaste kiss to his temple.

“That’s right, sweet dog,” Cavendish replies warmly, still smiling at his boyfriend. “Say it just one more time for Master, and then Master will give you a treat.”

At the mention of a treat, Bartolomeo perks up even more, his eyes going wide and eager as his smile turns into a sunny grin. He sits up straight, but he keeps his face in Cavendish’s hands, rubbing against them as he confidently and gleefully announces, “Master loves me!”

Cavendish lets out a soft, joyful laugh as he nods in agreement. “That’s right, pup! Master loves you so, so,_ so _much! I love you with all of my heart and I will do absolutely anything for you,” He tells his pet is a loving voice before leaning forward to catch Bartolomeo off guard in a sweet, slow kiss. Bartolomeo leans into the kiss eagerly, happy to follow Cavendish’s lead as the other man guides their mouths in a slow, easy rhythm, their tongue curling together familiarly. His hands, however, never leave his thighs, too unsure of where they should be to do anything.

The kiss ends when Cavendish pulls back slowly, a thing strand of saliva snapping when Cavendish pulls far enough away. Bartolomeo whimpers at the loss of contact, but the sound stops when he hears his Master’s pleased laugh. “You’re too cute, doggy,” the blonde says with a fond tone. “So sweet and loving. But while I know you love kisses, and I’d be happy to give you plenty more, don’t you want your treat now?” He asks with a slyly cocked eyebrow. 

Bartolomeo nods excitedly, eager for the reward his master is offering. “Yes, Master! I-I mean, please, Master,” He quickly corrects himself, grin turning sheepish for a moment as he ducks his head.

Cavendish chuckles as he uses his hands on Bartolomeo’s cheeks to guide his pup into looking at him once again. “You’re fine, pup. After Master’s mean joke, I’ll let you get away with a few things.” Speaking of which, that’s part of Cavendish’s plan to make it up to his sweet dog. “Now can you be a good boy and stay right here with your eyes closed while I get your treat?” he asks as he leans forward so he can rub the tip of his nose against Bartolomeo’s. 

The taller man grins as he mimics the action and tells Cavendish, “Yes, Master. I’ll be a good boy and wait right here and keep my eyes closed until you tell me to open them.” He’s in incredibly good spirits now, his Master’s sweet actions and words putting him in an incredibly gleeful state.

Still smiling at Bartolomeo, Cavendish pulls away from his pet and moves to get up so he can stand next to the couch. “Alright, puppy, close your eyes and don’t peek! I’ll be back with your treat in just a second, okay?” He chuckles when his orders are immediately obeyed, and he reaches down to ruffle the almost-dry green hair one last time before saying a quick ‘good dog’ and turning back to his desk. 

His tin of rose candies is hidden in the second drawer, and he quietly gets it out, making sure Bartolomeo won’t be able to pinpoint where the candies are hidden. He knows that Bartolomeo won’t open his eyes, but he also knows that Bartolomeo has great hearing. He takes one of the hard candies out of the tin before closing the lid, shutting it tight. Slowly, slowly, Cavendish puts the tin away, careful not to make any sound. He slides the drawer shut before walking back to sit on the couch in front of his pet.

Bartolomeo can hear the creaking of the couch springs under Cavendish’s weight, signaling that his Master has returned. He can’t help the pleased little chirps of ‘Master! Master!’ that leave his lips, but he manages to keep his eyes closed as he waits for Cavendish to give him his treat. He sits up straight as he tilts his head to the side wondering where his Master’s head is. But he doesn’t lean forward, doesn’t call out for Cavendish, especially doesn’t open his eyes. He’s a good dog and he’s going to behave like one, no matter what.

Aw, but Bartolomeo is just so cute! Cavendish smiles at Bartolomeo’s adorably eager behaviour, watching him for a few moments more before clearing his throat. “Alright, pup, you can open your eyes now.” Dark eyes flutter open and brighten immediately upon seeing Cavendish holding one of the rose candies between his thumb and forefinger. Cavendish chuckles as he watches Bartolomeo shift his weight from leg to leg in excitement. However, a moment later, the taller man goes very still and his cheeks go bright red. It only takes a glance downwards to figure out why - even at the sight of the treat, Bartolomeo’s cock is beginning to stir in his pants. Cavendish grins proudly at the sight; he has his pet so well trained. But he ignores that for now, instead holding the candy in front of his own mouth as he says, “Pup, focus on the treat.”

As his orders are given, Bartolomeo nods, ignoring his hardening member in favor of his treat. His eyes focus on the small candy, the only thing that Master wants him to focus on. He always loves this part, loves receiving the treat from his Master. His Master is so, so kind, and he is so generous to give Bartolomeo a treat like this.

Cavendish’s smile grows a bit at the corners as he gives a single nod of approval. “Good boy. Now wait,” He instructs firmly. When he’s certain Bartolomeo isn’t going to jump after the treat, Cavendish takes the candy into his own mouth. He lets it rest on the center of his tongue, tasting the floral sweetness of it as it coats the soft muscle. He gives himself another second before he raises a hand and elegantly beckons Bartolomeo to him.

Bartolomeo immediately obeys, leaning forward and slotting his lips together with Master’s. His tongue eagerly, messily, licks at the seam of Cavendish’s mouth, and a low whine rises in his throat as he tastes the first traces of rose on his Master’s lips. The fencer parts his lips, allowing Bartolomeo access to the insides of his mouth. Bartolomeo accepts the invitation and begins swiping messily at the shorter man’s tongue. It’s only because of Cavendish’s patience and skill that Bartolomeo finally gets the sweet candy into his own mouth, his Master having to put a hand on the back of his puppy’s skull and take charge of the kiss to get it there. But it finally finds its way into Bartolomeo’s mouth, and when the wet kiss is broken, he beams at his lovely Master. He loves how it tastes just like Cavendish, loves how sweet it is, loves its sweetness, its texture, loves how absolutely _ perfect _ it is.

A fond smile blooms on Cavendish’s saliva-slick lips as he watches Bartolomeo enjoy his treat. “So _ cute, _ puppy. You’re just so _ cute.” _ His sweet words only make Bartolomeo smile wider as Cavendish’s eyes move back to his pup’s crotch. And, just as he’s expected and hoped, Bartolomeo’s thick member is already fully hard in his pants, creating a huge tent in the fabric that makes Cavendish’s own cock stir. The bulge is so cute, so adorably enticing that Cavendish knows he’s about to let Bartolomeo do something that the blond hasn’t let him do since before he was trained. Cavendish is going to let his doggy dry hump him and cum in his pants.

But first, play time. Master wants to toy with his puppy.

Cavendish bites his lip coyly as he reaches out and places a hand over the impressive bulge in Bartolomeo’s pants. His puppy jolts at the sudden contact, but doesn’t try to get away from it. Not in the least. His pet actually pushes his hips up into the touch as he lets the hard candy dissolve on his tongue. Cavendish can feel the thick, pulsing warmth just beneath the fabric and it draws a pleased not-quite-moan from his throat. “Oh, _ puppy,” _ He says with the faintest hint of breathlessness as he rubs his hand over the hard length through the thin fabric, “You’re such a _big_ boy. I really shouldn’t be calling you ‘puppy’ when you have a cock like that, should I?" He laughs softly, a low, seductive sound. "I should call you ‘big dog' instead. Or more fitting would be ‘breeding stud.’ Oh, Master _ likes _ the sound of that. Master's perfect breeding stud. It certainly fits when you have a dick like _this._” He emphasizes his words by groping the large member through the fabric of Bartolomeo's joggers

The dirty words and sensual touches make rough, low growls and moans working their way up from Bartolomeo’s throat as he rocks his hips up into Cavendish’s touch. His hips buck and Bartolomeo thinks over his Master's pretty words while letting the floral flavor of his reward fill his mouth. ‘Breeding stud?’ That sounds so damn_ good,_ if Master is suggesting what Bartolomeo is thinking he’s suggesting. Being able to breed Master, to fill him with cum and leave him sore and bedridden for the days afterwards, during which he would be filled with even more of his breeding stud's cum… that would be the true dream. He roughly thrusts up into Bartolomeo's hand, a sharp snap of his hips, as his hands move to hold onto the couch cushions so he doesn't try to touch Master without permission. “Yes,” he growls lowly, _ “Yes, _ Master…” 

Growling already? Cavendish must be onto something with that ‘breeding’ line of thought. He can’t lie - he likes the sound of it, too. Likes the idea of letting Bartolomeo ignore his rules and training just so he can fill Cavendish up with his cum as he pounds into his Master's ass with a desperate, wild, reckless abandon. Fuck, Cavendish's ass would be sore and maybe even bruised from all the breeding. He wouldn't be able to so much as_ sit _for several days after, and it would only get worse because Bartolomeo would fuck him on a regular basis, adding more cum to the growing amount that he fills Cavendish with before pushing the thick plug back into his Master's body so he could add more later

He smiles up at Bartolomeo as he puts a bit more pressure on his pup’s cock. “Does that sound good, _ stud? _ Fucking your Master mindless until he can’t think of anything but your big, thick cock and your cum? Until Master can’t do anything but drool and say ‘More, more, stud, breed me?’ Until your Master can't move because he doesn't want to risk loosing any of his stud's semen?” He asks, growing more breathless with each and every word. His cock is hard in his skinny jeans and he can’t tell if he’s thankful for the pressure of the tight fabric or not. “Is that something that my puppy would like?” He asks as he begins to messily stroke Bartolomeo's cock as best he can through his pants.

"Yes, fuck, yes!" His doggy growls, hips bucking wildly into his Master’s touch. “Wanna breed you,” He groans lowly between pants. “Fill you up with my cum.” He can taste Master on his tongue, can practically taste his moans, too. Can taste his moan just like he can see his words. “Breed Master until Master can’t think about anything but me.”

Damn, Cavendish is going to be spending a lot of time with this fantasy in his dreams, and by the looks of it, in the bedroom, too. But right now, he can play with it a bit, so he decides to make the most of it. “You’re so excited to get your Master under you. I thought you liked Master in control of you better? What makes you want to breed him so bad when that means having to be the dominant one?” Cavendish asks as he continues to stroke his pet’s clothed erection, despite the sporadic bucking of his hips.

“Master... deserves to let go,” Bartolomeo pants, his mind far gone as he pictures Cavendish below him, body full of seen and a plug to hold all of it in. Tears of pleasure and overstimulation run down his cheeks as he trembles and reaches his own climax, cumming on his own stomach and adding to the numerous ropes of seed that already decorate his skin. “Master deserves to be bred,” he continues in a growl, “Until he needs his stud to take care of him. Master can be in charge again after that.”

A soft moan falls from Cavendish’s lips at the response. He can’t help but love how primal and animalistic it is. It’s so filthy and he adores it. “So you’d fuck your Master hard, hm? Hard enough to leave him with no thoughts in his head?” Bartolomeo nods quickly in response. Cavendish's lips pull into a sweetly devious smirk as he says, “Then show your Master. Leave your pants on, but show Master how you'd breed him.”

Within a second, BArtolomeo's hands are on Cavendish's hips, gripping tight, and it hardly takes a few seconds more before Bartolomeo has pulled his Master into his lap, making Cavendish straddle the bulge in his pants. He fucks up against his Master, his cock pushing against the seam of Cavendish’s jeans with every brutal, rough thrust of his hips. The pace us brutal, primal in every way, and it draws raw noises from both men.

Cavendish's hands have to hold tight to his pet's shoulders to keep from falling off. His mouth hangs open as loud, beautiful noises of pleasure fall from his lips like sweet honey. "H-Hah! Mhn-! Y-Yes, puppy! Ke-Keep going!" The bucks of hips against his ass makes Cavendish's cock throb with need as Bartolomeo humps him like a wild animal. Even from this dry humping, the fencer is going to be bruised.

“God, yes, go-good pup,” Cavendish pants as he’s roughly manhandled to grind against Bartolomeo’s cock. “Show your Master how you’d breed him!” And those words make Bartolomeo speed up, roughly bouncing the lighter man up and down on his lap as if he were a simple fucktoy. “Y-Yes! Th-That’s it! Keep go-ing!”

The candy has long since dissolved, but the taste remains strong in Bartolomeo’s mouth as animalistic sounds bubble up from deep in his chest. Each word and noise from Master spurs him on more, and he can feel his orgasm fast approaching. As his climax approaches, he grinds his Master’s ass down against his cock, bucking his hips against his Master. “Fuck- Master, Master-!”He spills his seed in his pants, a sizable amount of seed spilling onto his thighs and over his member in a stick mess. Some of it leaks through his clothes, stringing white threads between Bartolomeo’s crotch and Cavendish’s ass that he can see as his Master moves to get off his lap.

“Wow,” Cavendish remarks, voice scratchy and breathless. “You really like that idea, hm?” He asks as he glances at Bartolomeo with a sly grin. “You want to be my ‘breeding stud,’ huh, pup?”

A lust-hazy but sweet grin crosses the green haired man’s lips as he nods slowly. “Who wouldn’t, Master? You’re perfect and would look so good when you’re being bred,” He responds in a lust fog. Then he realizes what he’s done; only bad puppies cum in their pants like this. An embarrassed flush crosses his cheeks as he begins to say, “I’m so-”

“Don’t apologize.” Cavendish immediately says. “Right now, what we need to do is get you cleaned up so we can talk more about this ‘breeding’ kink. I really want to hear what you have in mind. Sound good, puppy?”

“Perfect, Master.”


End file.
